


It's not a sweet love story.

by Iolanfg



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2018-10-25
Packaged: 2019-08-07 14:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16410539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iolanfg/pseuds/Iolanfg
Summary: For the challenge of the Facebook group Mystrade is our division : A story with the word "sweet".Greg and Mycroft is not love...





	It's not a sweet love story.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Janyss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janyss/gifts).



> Obviously, neither Mycroft, Greg nor Sherlock belong to me. 
> 
> My language is not English. This has been translated directly by DeepL Traductor. I apologize for the mistakes, and if anyone wants to correct me I will be more than happy to learn.

His was not a sweet, cheesy love story. They both knew them. It was an agreement born of logic and tiredness. Greg was clear: they were not in love. It didn't matter if John was smiling, or Sherlock was looking at him singing "I warned you". No, Greg was not in love with the man who with a self-sufficient look had just arrived at his crime scene and had requisitioned the evidence from his team. How could I love that condescending, controlling man?. He and Mycroft had talked about it. Greg didn't want to be tied down in a relationship full of secrets and impossible schedules. Mycroft was clear that wanting was not an advantage, that, in the end, all hearts break, that everything ends. Their relationship was based on the need not to be alone at the end of the day. There were no flowers or candlelight dinners. There were work meetings and then a drink while they talked about this and that, good sex and zero complications. Mycroft could never love an underworld cop, a goldfish at his command who still despaired when justice was shining in his absence. Greg could never love a bureaucrat who spent the day juggling the ethical and the necessary, he could never love that cold look and that smug smile on the outside, which turned into sad eyes and a broken smile when he came home after not having been able to avoid another catastrophe, or a new disaster for his brother. No, it wasn't love. And if, after sex, they slept together, it wasn't for love, but because they weren't teenagers and they could sleep together without it having any importance. And if they woke up hugging it wasn't because they needed each other, but because the nights were cold and the bodies were looking for warmth. And if, one day, they decided to live together, it wasn't because they wanted to spend the rest of their days together. It was just that it was absurd to live on either side of the city when Mycroft's house fit the two and logic dictated that spending all the free time they had together, there was no point in living separately. But no, that was not a sweet and cheesy love story.


End file.
